


Caritas

by WolfIsa



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angst, Heist, M/M, Orphanage, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Thieves be thievin', charity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:00:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22692193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfIsa/pseuds/WolfIsa
Summary: It had been about five years since the end of Skyrim’s Civil War- the region was returned to Imperial rule and the fighting coming to an end meant borders were once again open. A job was proposed but not even the best infiltrator of the frozen province’s Thieves Guild branch could get in. In the aftermath of the war, there had been several rumors spread around over a plot to assassinate High Queen Elisif - starting another war. The young Queen seemed to take them so seriously the Blue Palace was practically on lockdown. To even get an audience with her, one was subjected to searches and questioning by her guards. Those that were granted to see her reported being watched closely the entire time. Naturally, whether the rumors were true or not, it didn’t matter to the guild. However, it did put a spanner on the ability to rob her blind. Thus, a request was made to the Guild's sister in the Cyrodiil branch for assistance.
Relationships: Brynjolf (Elder Scrolls)/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 35
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone who has read my previous works may notice that this one is a bit more polished. Ya boi finally got some beta readers! From this point going forward, I'll be doing my best to continue getting help in making my works more polished and the best experience I can provide to you all whenever I do post.

The day was unseasonably cold for autumn, not quite snowy weather, but cold enough. The denizens of Riften were out in the market wearing furs and padded cloaks to keep warm. Brynjolf was busy with his scheme at his stall, keeping an eye out for the guildmate sent to help from Cyrodiil. No one in the guild knew what this man looked like, other than the assumption that he would be an Imperial. Since Maven had taken over as Jarl, the city had seen an influx of Imperials to the area; the task wasn't easy.

There were a few men in the market today that the Nord had his suspicions about. One seemed to be arguing with the ever-grouchy Grelka. Another had made his way inside the Bee and Barb, and a third was busy perusing Madesi’s stall. The first two were acting too normal, too comfortable as if they weren't aware (or afraid) of the lake town's reputation. The third seemed to be the only one that was aware, and he kept a clutch on his belongings. Brynjolf had no idea which it could be, based on these observations alone, if it was any of them in the first place. He kept watch when he wasn't doing his pitches.

Eventually, the third man meandered over, contemplating as he listened to Brynjolf. Of course, since he had been watching him, Brynjolf addressed his audience after the pitch was over.

“Interested in some Falmer Blood Elixir, eh, lad?”

The man laughed somewhat, and held his hand up. “Nah, I’m just looking around. Taking in what all this city has to offer.”

“Now, come on, I’m sure you could afford some of this quality product and still take in everything else?” Brynjolf doubled down; even if this was not whom the Guild was waiting on, he could still try to swindle his money.

The Imperial shook his head. He looked to the beggar sitting beside the Brynjolf’s stall briefly, before returning his gaze to the Nord. His body language suggested he was closely guarding his gold. “I’ve got other plans for my septims. In fact, where would be the best place to find some fur cloaks?”

Brynjolf set down the potion, frowning slightly from the rejection. He was curious, but supposed it wasn’t too odd of a question,considering the chill of the day.The man didn’t have any warm clothing; he was wearing a thin-looking leather jacket covering an even thinner linen shirt.

“Skyrim a bit too brisk for ya?” he asked with a chuckle, “The Pawned Prawn would probably have what you’re looking for, but--”

He couldn’t even finish as the Imperial looked behind him, saw the sign of the shop. He uttered a thanks, then left.

“It doesn’t look like he's interested in the bullshit you’re spouting,” Edda said, side-eyeing Brynjolf.

“Well he didn’t donate to you or Snilf, so it doesn’t look like he gives a shit about you two, either,” Brynjolf replied snidely.

“Shut up, the day is still going. And unlike the cold-hearted people in this town, visitors are always kind enough. Besides, we’re milking it today; it’s so cold it feels like my arms are going to freeze off.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s not my problem you two won’t spend a coin on getting something to wear.”

“Hey, even linen cloaks are expensive and we need to eat.”

The Imperial wasn’t seen for a good part of the afternoon; a disappointment to Brynjolf, but he still had to observe the two men. His suspicions about him were no longer there after their short interaction.

Much later, the man had returned to the market, arms full of fur and baskets of what appeared to be food. Brynjolf’s eyes immediately locked onto him as he repeated his sales pitch yet again. However it trailed off when he witnessed what the man did next.

The brunette approached Snilf, kneeling in front of the beggar and offered one of the two fur cloaks. Judging by the quality of the fur itself and the craftsmanship of the design, just one had to cost a pretty septim; not to mention there was quite the selection of morsels inside the baskets he carried. He set one down with a smile. Snilf accepted the gifts, growing even happier when a hefty coin purse dropped into his bowl.

Brynjolf watched in amazement as the Imperial did the same with Edda. The woman praised the generous man, wishing Divine blessings on him as she wrapped up in the cloak.

“That was your plan?” he asked, still trying to comprehend what he'd seen.

The Imperial smiled again as he patted the beggar’s shoulder. As he stood up, he dropped another purse into her bowl, as well. “Why spend money on an obvious scam, when I can do something worthwhile with it?” he responded with a smirk, giving Brynjolf a small, albeit cheeky, bow and took his leave.

Edda laughed at Brynjolf, who was rendered speechless by having been called out so blatantly. That did it. Normally, Brynjolf didn’t let things get to him, finding it beneath him to get caught up in petty things. However, the smug way the foreigner had avoided his scheme annoyed him. His irritation made him forget about watching for the guildmate.

Later when the market closed for the day, Brynjolf went back to the cistern. He was grumpy from the earlier interaction and dead-set on getting a drink. Brynjolf descended the ladder. Rune called out to him when he reached the bottom.

“Hey Bryn, that infiltrator from Cyrodiil is here!”

It was only then that Brynjolf remembered that he was supposed to be keeping an eye out for them in the first place. “Shit. When was this? I didn’t see anyone that might’ve fit today, didn’t see anyone go into the Ratway, either.”

“Like an hour ago; the guy just showed up in the Flagon.”

“Son of a bitch.” Brynjolf hurried to the tavern. He was frustrated, having been so caught up with the bastard in the market, that he'd forgotten. Once he exited the secret door and stepped out into the bar area, he scanned around for the new face. He froze in place when he spotted him.

The Guild’s guest was busy talking quite cheerfully with Delvin, only pausing when he felt eyes on him. He grinned knowingly, and held up his tankard, tipping it toward Brynjolf.

The Breton followed the motion, spying Brynjolf, and he smiled. “Well there ya are, Bryn. Come on, have a sit. I was just gettin’ to know our guest- you should, too, since you’re goin’ with him.”

The man laughed quietly when Brynjolf gave him an annoyed squint as he sat across from him. He took a drink from his tankard. “We might’ve run into each other at the market. Sorry about that, by the way, mate, but your sales pitch is horrendous. Anyone with half a brain can see through it.”

“I beg to differ. It’s worked on quite a few people, lad,” Brynjolf defended, growing bitter yet again.

“Must be a lot of people with no brains then. Make love like a Sabrecat, honestly,” the Imperial repeated part of the pitch. “But really, I’m not here to judge how you lot make your coin. I’m here to help with the job in Solitude, and from what I saw, you’re going to need it.”

Delvin chimed in with a question, “What do you mean, from what you saw?”

“I took the chance to scope out the place before heading here, so I knew what I was getting into. You guys really didn’t think it took three months for someone to cross the border and get to Riften, did you?” the man revealed.

“You could have sent a letter that you were doing so. Rather rude to let us keep waiting,” Brynjolf chided - his guildmate nodding in agreement.

The Imperial shrugged, shifting in his seat to pull out a journal and set it on the table. He tapped the cover, “But I brought so much information. This is the schedule for every single guard inside and out of the palace: Their shifts, rotations, positions; when entrances open and close, as well as the locations of every single blind spot on the exterior of the building.”

Both master thieves’ eyes widened in surprise and confusion.

“How’d you manage to get this?” Delvin questioned, immediately grabbing for the book and flipping through the pages.

“The outside was easy enough to observe. That city doesn’t lend itself to being difficult for perching out of sight. The inside...well, that was more difficult to suss. I don’t know if they did it on purpose, but the stained glass they have is a bitch to see through.”

Brynjolf snatched the journal from the Breton’s hands - scoffing in disbelief as he looked through it. “There’s no way you saw every post inside the place from looking through the windows, lad. Over half of them hang over the cliffside.”

“Your point?”

Brynjolf glanced up from the pages with a quirked brow, “Just who are you?”

At that question, the Imperial stood from his seat. “Nikos Aelius. Lead acrobat of the Knights of Phantasm troupe, co-manager of the Roselin Orphanage of Chorrol, third-in-command and the best damned infiltrator the Cyrodiil Thieves Guild has to offer, at your service,” he introduced with a grin and an overly dramatic bow.

Brynjolf rolled his eyes as his guildmate grabbed the book back.

This job was going to be annoying.


	2. Chapter 2

The trip to Solitude didn’t get underway until a week later. Nikos had spent the time getting to know the Guild. He attempted to get to know Brynjolf and Vex the most as he would be doing the heist with them but they weren’t having it. It wasn’t so surprising that Vex didn’t like him; she was rough with anyone new, even more so with those who could be seen as a rival. However, with Brynjolf, the rest of the Guild found it odd. His usual gentle, playful nature would be immediately replaced whenever Nikos was around. No one figured Brynjolf to be the type to hold petty grudges but he seemed to be doing so with their guest. It was a bit worrying.

The night before the trio were set to leave the city, Delvin took Brynjolf aside.

“Alright, what’s your problem? Ye know we can’t be having this while you guys are in Solitude.”

Brynjolf crossed his arms tersely. “I can’t stand his attitude.”

“What attitude? The teasing he did when you two met? Bryn, we’ve all made fun of your pitch,” Delvin pointed out.

“It’s not that. It’s…” Brynjolf sighed, finally letting his arms relax, “His whole.. helping the needy thing. He’s spending so much money and effort, then acts smug about it.”

Delvin raised a brow and scratched his chin. “Does he? All the times he’s brought it up in the Flagon, it’s been more him expressin’ frustrations dealin’ with Maven. He seems pretty genuine about helpin’ people. I think you forgot how things were before Mercer. Gallus did the same stuff. Helpin’ people.”

Brynjolf’s eyes widened in realization, then he mentally slapped himself. “You’re right… I’ve been acting like an ass, haven’t I?”

Delvin nodded, moving to pat Brynjolf on the shoulder, “That ya have been. I don’t blame you for forgettin’; you were only a lad yourself before Mercer took over. Might be a good idea to make amends before leaving. Aelius, you, and Vex need to work as a team, and that ain’t gonna happen if the guy feels like you two don’t have his back.”

Brynjolf huffed a nervous laugh, “Tell that to Vex.”

“She’ll step up when it’s time for business. I was more worried about you.”

“Alright, alright. I’ve got it, Delvin. I’ll talk to him,” he told him, sighing; admitting he’s been a prick to Nikos was not an idea he was fond of.

  
  
  


Nikos was busy packing, stuffing his bag more aggressively than he probably should’ve been; either he was in a bad mood, or he sucked at packing.

“They’re gonna wrinkle like that, lad.”

Nikos raised his head to look at the other thief, a small scowl on his lips. He didn’t reply; instead, he returned to shoving the articles in his pack.

Bad mood, then. This was going to be...fun…

Brynjolf swallowed back a slight ball in his throat, lingering scorn, and sighed. “Something happen?”

“What?” Nikos turned to look at him once again, suspiciously curious. “What would you care?”

“Well, it has recently come to my attention that I’ve been…” Brynjolf paused, sucking on his teeth as the words sat on the tip of his tongue. 

“An unprofessional ass,” Nikos said it for him.

“Yeah,” Brynjolf bitterly agreed, resisting the urge to grunt from the sting of hearing it.

Nikos abandoned his bag for the time being, moving to face Brynjolf fully. He motioned to a chair on the other side of the room, while he sat on the edge of his bed.

Brynjolf walked over and planted his rear on the edge of the seat. He wasn’t feeling comfortable enough to just relax for the talk they were about to have.

“You understand that realizing how poorly you’ve been acting doesn’t excuse it, right?” 

“Unfortunately, I’m aware. Normally I’m a lot better with people,” Brynjolf admitted.

“So what’s your issue with me then? Was it the sales pitch thing?” 

Brynjolf shook his head, “No, lad. Up until Delvin talked with me,  _ I _ didn’t even know what the problem was.”

“So, what then?”

“It’s.. hard to explain.”

Nikos leaned back on a hand, “Try me.”

With that, Brynjolf finally settled back in the chair. “You’re aware we’ve been under a new Guildmaster for only a few years now?”

A nod.

“Before that, we were under Mercer Frey,” he began, “And he was--”

Nikos held up his other hand to interrupt. “I met Frey. You don’t need to explain what kind of man he was.”

“Then you might see where I’m going with this.”

The other thief shrugged, “Somewhat. Continue.”

“I was sixteen when Mercer took over the Guild here and there was this.. shift after he did so. Things became more focused on the Guild and profits. A complete change from how Gallus had run things. Now, even with Gallus, bringing in coin was a priority but Mercer...that’s all he gave a damn about. For decades.”

“Let me guess, me coming here and getting involved in something else other than that greed you’d grown to know sparked something?” Nikos asked.

“Exactly,” Brynjolf replied with a soft, embarrassed chuckle. “I guess a bit of his attitude towards helping others rubbed off on me, and when I saw you doing this, it pissed me off. I know now, this was completely unprofessional and unwarranted, and for that, I’m sorry.”

“Among other things,” Nikos said. “I mean, I get it. I’m still going to give you shit for it for a while, but I get it. Just don’t tell me that’s Vex’s problem too.”

“Nah, she’s just like that in general for the most part,” Brynjolf told him, cracking a slight smile. “So, do you forgive me then, lad?”

“Professionally, I’ve got no choice. Personally, that might take a bit longer. Unless you  _ really  _ change how you act towards me from here on out,” Nikos acknowledged, shifting in his seat a little. 

“Where could I start?”

“I don’t know. I doubt you’d want to try convincing your patron to actually give a damn about the orphanage,” he mentioned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Apparently, that was the source of his foul mood before the Nord even came to speak with him.

“It would be a hot day in Skyrim before that happened, but I can always try. After we get back from Solitude, of course.”

“Of course.” 

Nikos stood back up, stretching real quick before going back to packing. However, he stopped shortly after again. “Were you in that orphanage before you came of age?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“...Did you know about the ah.. the closet?” 

That caused Brynjolf to freeze for a moment, the obvious sign of unpleasant memories flashing behind his eyes, but just as quickly as he froze, he was back to normal. “I did.”

Nikos had noticed the brief change as well. “That’s.. been the point of contention between me and Maven. She refuses to fund renovations to come in and remove everything. When we get back.. help me get her to do it?”

Brynjolf rose to his feet and nodded to his fellow thief, “For that, I will do my damnedest.”


	3. Chapter 3

Nikos seemed invigorated once the trio had set out, as if all the bad energy he had built up while in Riften was shed the moment they passed the gates. Brynjolf wasn’t entirely sure if their talk the night before was partly the reason,but he was surprised to see Nikos so chipper. He had to admit, it was kind of  _ nice _ to see him like this. However, he didn’t feel quite comfortable enough to start being friendly with the man just yet.

The first day went well- no incidents, hold-ups, arguments or the like; just awkward silence until the thieves set up camp for the evening.

“So, Vex, when did you join the Guild?” 

“Didn’t you already ask me this before?” 

“Yes, but you didn’t answer. I’m just trying to learn more about my guildmate,” Nikos explained as he stomped the tent posts into the ground.

“What, so you can see if you’ve got more experience than me?” Vex spat.

Brynjolf watched the exchange, realizing that until Delvin had spoken to him, that he was acting almost as difficult as Vex . It made his gut curl to realize it, too.

“Relax, Vex. He’s not here to take your position, remember?” 

“Then, why in Oblivion is he here at all?” Vex asked, ceasing help with the setup,instead crossing her arms over her chest in a haughty display.

Brynjolf dropped the rope he was securing to one of the posts., “Even we need help, lass.” 

When Brynjolf let go of the rope, Nikos darted over to catch it with a grunt that was barely noticed by the other two. Apparently, Brynjolf’s explanation wasn’t good enough for Vex and she continued, deigning to walk away from the campsite with Brynjolf in pursuit. Nikos could be heard calling them back but Brynjolf needed to sort out Vex.

* * *

“Where are you going?”

“Away from him.”

He ambled in front of Vex, attempting to block her path. She brushed past him and continued on; they kept this dance going until Brynjolf grabbed her arm. 

“You’re acting childish, lass,” he told her at last.

“Up until last night, you were doing the same shit, Bryn! What makes you two such good buddies now? What’d you go to his room for last night? ‘Cause you sure as hell were on the same page as me before that,” she snapped, whipping her arm out from his grasp.

“Delvin talked to m--” Brynjolf began before he was cut off.

“Ohhh, yeah, right. Delvin. Him being here was all Delvin’s idea in the first fucking place.  _ Of course _ , he’d want you to be nice to the guy. Damn it, Bryn. Delvin isn’t the Guildmaster,  _ you _ are. Why did you even let him request help from Cyrodiil? We were doing fine.”

Brynolf had enough at that point. . He scowled, standing straight, his voice dropping to a low, stern tone. “ _ I _ was the one who told Delvin to seek help. We were not  _ doing fine _ , Vex. Our luck got better after Mercer but we’re  _ still _ trying to rebuild our reputation, and as skilled as you and I are, we cannot pull off this job ourselves,” he admitted, trying his best to keep from letting the sting of that confession show on his face.

Vex’s expression went foul, a cross between disgust and disbelief, nearly as bad as when she discovered the empty vault after Mercer’s betrayal. And that hurt Brynjolf even further. 

“Vex…” 

She turned away from him, looking out into the wilderness, her foot grinding into the dirt beneath her boot. 

Brynjolf moved to put a hand on her shoulder, “Vex, come on.”

As soon as his hand made contact, she turned. The next thing he knew, her fist connected with his jaw. He landed with a loud ‘fwump,’ square on his ass. His hand reached to his chin, which was beginning to swell, heat radiating from the surface. Looking up at her, he noticed that she was trying to look pissed, but her eyes were tearing up a bit, jaw clenched a little too tightly, her teeth grating against each other. 

She was upset.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Vex asked, her voice teetering on the edge of a tremble. 

“I couldn’t,” Brynjolf let out with a sore groan, “After what Mercer did, I had to let everyone at least think we were doing better after all this time.”

Vex scoffed, “And you think inviting an outsider in to help is going to fix all that?”

  
  
  


“Nikos isn’t an outsider, Vex,” he explained as he rolled onto his knee to stand up, his hand still rubbing his injured jaw. “He’s in the Guild. Same as us. Hell, he holds the same position in our branch as you do.”

“But he’s  _ not _ from Skyrim.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me,” she told him, holding firm over how she was feeling. 

And Brynjolf could see that. He fucked up with not telling the others the state of the Guild, but he, no,  _ they _ couldn’t afford to wallow in their misfortune and broken reputation; not if they were going to survive and rebuild. 

“Vex, he’s here to help us get back on our feet. We  _ need _ him to do this job. I’m disappointed you’re not more on board with this, but I’m not sending him away. You’re not walking away from this, either. If we’re going to get away with this, we have to work together.”

“But--”

“That’s final, lass.”

* * *

Some time passed before they returned. While the two were gone, Nikos had managed to get the tents pitched, but hadn’t started the fire. When he noticed the pair coming back, he placed his hands on his hips and offered a soft, almost knowing smile to Brynjolf. He nodded back to him while Vex skulked over to start working on lighting the fire; she still apparently did not want to talk to Nikos, but she was no longer glaring daggers at him ,at least. 

Nikos sensed speaking to her again wouldn’t be a good idea for now, and instead approached Brynjolf, asking him in a hushed voice, “Everything alright?”

“It’s...okay for now. Got some things straightened out,” Brynjolf told him with a sigh before rubbing his jaw again. It was aching now. Let no one ever say Vex couldn’t handle herself.

Nikos noticed, spying the swelling, the small dribble of blood at the corner of his mouth and developing bruise and winced a bit at the sight. “That’s not because of me, is it?”

“No, no. This was all me, lad.”

“Well, I can’t help but think I played at least a small part in you getting that,” he said just as Vex got the campfire going. “Come on, I should have something to take care of it,” he motioned to their tent where his bag was placed and started heading to it.

Eyes traveled over to Vex. Her gaze darted away and she huffed but stayed put by the fire. He felt guilty having to put his foot down like he had with her, but he was starting to understand that if he was going to continue being Guildmaster, he was going to have to be more firm - especially with Vex. There was no going back to being the hands-off recruiter he was when Mercer was in charge. He had to do what was best for the Guild. 

He sighed, ran his tongue along the cut inside his cheek, then joined Nikos inside the tent. 

Nikos grabbed a jar filled with a red substance from his pack and sat down on his bedroll, patting the ground in front of him. Brynjolf shuffled over to the spot and took a seat, removing his hand from the welt.

“She knocked you good,” Nikos commented as he opened the lid, examining the spot. He ran a thumb over the injury before dipping his fingers into the salve and beginning to apply it. 

Brynjolf winced from the contact, trying his hardest to remain still and not pull away as Nikos worked, “Aye, but I deserved it. I kept Guild information from her.”

“Yikes. Yeah, I’d say you got off lucky with just this judging by her temper,” he mentioned while putting light coats of the aid on. “What information did you hide?”

The balm was a light healing medicine, the effects already starting to send a slight tingle across his entire jaw as it began to absorb into his skin.

“She didn’t know that I was the one who invited you because we needed the help,” Brynjolf admitted, “She thought it was all Delvin’s idea. And she had no idea about how badly things were going.”

“From the letter I’d assumed you guys were doing alright up here. A bit pressed with the palace job but not terrible since you took charge though. Was I wrong?” Nikos asked, applying more of the medicine on the wound, rubbing it in thoroughly.. 

Brynjolf recoiled at that, pulling away and holding his hand up to signal he was done with the ‘treatment’. Nikos nodded and stopped, holding up the jar to him. 

“For the inside of your mouth.”

“You’re not going to take care of that too, lad?” Brynjolf questioned flirtatiously from out of nowhere, in an attempt to avoid answering the earlier question.

Nikos shook his head, and raised a brow at the other. 

Brynjolf huffed a little, taking a small bit of the balm out and brushed it inside his mouth, hissing at the sting. Only when the tingling started did he finally reply.

“Mercer fucked up a lot of things, and with our friend that revealed to us what he’d done up and disappearing and our previous Guildmaster’s lass electing not to come back, I got stuck with the job and to be honest...I’ve got no idea what I’m doing,” he confessed. 

“Well, if  _ we’re _ being honest, I kind of noticed that,” Nikos remarked, grabbing a kerchief, absentmindedly dabbing at the corner of Brynjolf’s mouth to get rid of the blood and drool. “Even your patron seems to be lacking confidence in your branch right now. Delvin seems to be the only one that knows his way around how everything works. Why didn’t he get put in charge?” 

It was Brynjolf’s turn to raise a brow but Nikos continued until the area was cleaned. Interesting…

He let out a soft chuckle when Nikos did pull away, noting the man clearing his throat, “He didn’t want it; said he didn’t want to be the one responsible if our luck went south again.” 

“I see. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, huh?” 

“Especially when that head keeps cocking things up,” Brynjolf replied, running his tongue along the cut again,cringing at the taste of the salve, managing to get a small laugh from Nikos.

  
  


“Listen, I was only planning on staying a bit longer after we finished with this job to make sure Honorhall was up to snuff, but I could stay a bit longer. Maybe help teach you some things?” he offered.

Brynjolf sat back on his hand, looking over Nikos with a critical, albeit coy, eye. “And just  _ what _ could you teach me?” 

“Unlike you,  _ Guildmaster _ , I didn’t get my position by it simply falling into my lap,” Nikos pointed out as he stood up, “I know what I’m doing. If you don’t want my help, just let me know. I’d be just as well going back home.”

Brynjolf rolled his eyes, “Alright, fine. We’ll see how you do on this job first. If you impress then I’ll consider it.”

“Don’t take too long doing your considering, I’m not that patient of a man,” Nikos told him as he returned the coyness of the earlier look before leaving the tent. 

Once he was gone, Brynjolf rubbed his jaw once more and groaned softly. Just how many more mistakes was he going to make?


	4. Chapter 4

“You said you’re the third in command, right?” 

Nikos stopped chewing his bread mid-bite and stared. 

It had been several days since the fight between Vex and Brynjolf and the woman hadn’t spoken a word since to either of them. The fact she suddenly started again and was making the attempt to communicate with Nikos shocked and confused both men.

He quickly finished off his bite and scrambled to answer. “Yeah. Though I do-”

“Who’s your Guildmaster?” Vex interrupted, indicating she really didn’t care about what role Nikos played as third. 

The Imperial kind of hummed, telling himself he should’ve expected that and continued. “The Gray Fox is our Guildmaster.”

Both Vex and Brynjolf scoffed. Vex rolled her eyes dramatically: “The Gray Fox is a myth. He doesn’t exist.”

“Anymore anyway,” Brynjolf added.   
  


“Oh, he exists,” Nikos maintained, unbothered. 

“So, you’re saying you’ve seen him, lad?”

“Seen him? I interact with him regularly,” Nikos explained. “I get most of my jobs from him directly. He’s the one that approved my coming to Skyrim since our second wouldn’t.”

“I don’t believe you,” Vex said 

Brynjolf nodded in agreement. “Sorry, lad, but I’ve seen some bizarre things and even I have a hard time believing you.”

Nikos grunted then sighed, setting down his bread and standing up. “Believe me or not, it doesn’t matter. I’m not going to debate the existence of my teacher with you two.”

“Your teacher?” Brynjolf questioned.

“The Gray Fox was the one who recruited me and trained me for the Guild,” Nikos explained, irritated. “He isn't a legend or a myth, he’s real and I owe everything to him. Just because some information doesn’t reach past the border doesn’t mean that he isn’t still around.”

“But he would have to be over five hundred years old, lad.”

“And no one thought him being around for three-hundred the last time he was heard of was odd?” 

Brynjolf and Vex fell silent. 

Nikos grunted again, grabbed up his bread and went to the tent. 

After he was gone, the two looked at each other. Vex looked almost as irritated as Nikos was but Brynjolf could only fidget awkwardly.

“Maybe he’s telling the--”

“No, there’s no way. If The Gray Fox was still around then he wouldn’t have let Mercer get away with what he did.”

“Vex, I don’t think even The Gray Fox could’ve stopped Mercer.”

“How the fuck would you know?” she asked.

“I...just know.” Brynjolf bit back the urge to tell her the truth. He couldn’t. The pact with Nocturnal wouldn’t allow it.

“Gods...both of you are so full of shit,” Vex turned to stare at the fire. 

“Not by choice,” Brynjolf muttered under his breath to himself, annoyed that he’d managed to piss both his companions off. 

* * *

  
  


The following days consisted of tentative travel where the three barely spoke to each other, and when they did, it was only out of necessity rather than desire. A few times arguments nearly broke out, but someone, usually Nikos, would bitterly leave the conversation before it got too heated.

It wasn’t until they got closer to Solitude that Nikos tried to start initiating communication again, though he didn’t talk about anything personal. It was all business; all about the job. Even when Brynjolf attempted to engage Nikos in the evenings before bed, he received nothing other than a quick dismissal and would be promptly ignored. Vex was just as difficult to talk to, if not more so. Brynjolf found himself walking on eggshells anytime the woman was around. She was even less interested in talking, unless she initiated and would then shut down as soon as Brynjolf began to respond. By the time they reached the city, he was more than a little apprehensive about the heist.

The trio spent the night in the inn upon arrival. Like their tents, Brynjolf and Nikos shared a room while Vex got her own, but even though they were just a day away now, there was still no talking.

Finally, Brynjolf got fed up with it. He knew they were going to botch this if the animosity continued, and none of them could afford that. 

After dinner, Brynjolf decided to speak to Vex first.

“We need to talk.”

“No we don’t,” Vex spat as she entered her room, getting ready to close the door in the other thief’s face.

Brynjolf shoved his foot in the door to prevent it. 

“Damn it, Brynjolf. I’ll slam your foot in the door if you don’t fucking move it.”

“No, you won’t because you’re not going to do anything to mess with this job,” Brynjolf insisted as he began to shove the door open further, pushing himself through despite Vex’s attempts to keep him out, throwing her weight against the other side.

He managed to squeeze through, and, from the effort Vex had been using, the door slammed shut behind him.

“Get out.” 

“No, lass. We are going to talk.”

Vex damn near hissed when she didn’t get her way, stomping over to the desk and dramatically throwing herself into the seat next to it. “Fine. Talk until you’re blue in the face if it makes you feel better, but I don’t give a damn about what you’ve got to say.”

Brynjolf sighed deeply, inwardly groaning at the task he had before him. 

“How long is this going to go on, Vex?” he asked after a while of trying to figure out how to start the conversation. 

“How long is  _ what  _ going to go on?”

“You know what I’m talking about.  _ This. _ This fighting with me. Fighting with Nikos. The way this is going we’re not only going to screw up the job but we’re going to all end up in jail or executed.”

“The only way that’s going to happen is if that Imperial bastard fucks up,” Vex remarked in self-defense – as if she wasn’t adding to the problem.

Brynjolf ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. “We  _ need _ to work together and we can’t very well do that if everyone is too busy being at each other’s throats.”

“I’m not at anybody’s throat.  _ We _ ’ll get the job done and be fine,” she assured him, her expression growing into a combination of bitterness and bravado.

Brynjolf caught the emphasis she put on ‘we’ and he scowled. “Vex. Don’t even think about it.”

Vex just huffed and looked to the side, feigning.

“Vex.”

She ignored him again.

“We’re not going to betray Nikos,” he said.

“I never said we were. It’s just if he so happens to fuck up…” she started to suggest and Brynjolf went to yell, only getting a short sound out before stopping himself.

He took a deep breath in, walked over to Vex, grabbing her shoulder and forcing her to meet his eyes. “The only way he would fuck up is if he were sabotaged. That’s not happening, lass.”

Vex smacked his hand off her and stood up, getting in his face. “Are you seriously accusing me of thinking about screwing him over?!”

“Are you going to deny it?” Brynjolf countered.

“I can’t believe you, Bryn,” she shouted indignantly, shoving the man aside and walking past him to the other side of the room. “First you fucking invite him here, then you get all buddy-buddy with him, then you believe his bullshit lies about The Gray Fox and now you’re accusing  _ me _ !  _ Me _ , of all people, of planning to stab a Guildmate in the back?”

“It sure as hell sounds like that’s what you’re thinking,” Brynjolf fired back, noting that she had still yet to deny if that even was what she was thinking.

Vex crossed her arms over her chest, lips pursed in a snarl. “Like I said,  _ if _ he fucks up...”

“You keep saying that, but you know for him to be in the position he’s in, he has to have skill. So either you’re hoping he will, or you’re planning on making him. Which is it?”

The woman turned silent, refusing to look at Brynjolf once again and he’d finally had enough.

He moved towards the door. “If you won’t answer me then consider yourself removed from the job.”

That got her attention. “You can’t just-”

“I can and I will. We’ve had enough back-stabbing, Vex and you know what it’s cost us for it in the end. I won’t stand by and let it happen again.”

“I wasn’t– It was just…” Vex stammered, her entire demeanor shifting from insulted anger to panicked fear from the threat of being removed from the heist. “You and I could do it by ourselves, we don’t need him! All we’d have to do is wait until–”

“Vex!” Brynjolf finally roared, more disappointed than angry as she began to confirm his suspicion. “Listen to yourself…you sound like...”

He couldn’t bring himself to say it out-loud. Though, he didn’t have to, it was already out. And as soon as it was, he knew what was coming next.

“I’m nothing like him!” Vex shrieked. 

“And after your implications, what else am I supposed to think?” Brynjolf shouted back. 

Vex opened her mouth to reply but quickly closed it, her shoulders and head drooping. She squeezed her arms tighter against her chest, “You don’t understand…”

“Don’t understand what? What am I not getting, lass? What am I supposed to be gathering from you, because the last few weeks has been nothing but you fighting me every step on a decision that has already been made, and then you drop  _ this _ on me?” He stepped away from the door and faced her, barely recognizing his own voice. “I don’t care if it’s someone from the Cyrodiil branch, the Elswyer branch, or fucking the High Rock branch. They’re all Guildmates and we don’t screw over our Guildmates. I don’t know where you got it in your head that it’s suddenly ‘us versus them’ but it needs to stop and it needs to stop  _ now _ . Back-stabbing is what got us in this position in the first place, and I know you know that.”

Vex’s frame shrunk further. Brynjolf couldn’t stand seeing her like this, but he felt disappointed, almost disgusted, that she had even considered screwing over Nikos. 

“Whatever ideas you had you need to drop by noon tomorrow or you’ll be heading back to Riften that afternoon,” he commanded. He sighed, clutching his fist, then opened the door, “I hope you’ll do the right thing. We need you on this, Vex.” 

As he closed the door Brynjolf could’ve sworn he heard a sob but he didn’t allow himself to look back in. 

* * *

  
  


As Brynjolf entered his shared room, Nikos was sat on his bed reading a copy of  Nightingales: Fact or Fiction?. Though he was attempting to look relaxed, it was pretty obvious he wasn’t. 

He didn’t even look up as Brynjolf sat down on the sofa in the corner of the room, plopped his arm over his eyes and groaned loudly.

“From the sound of it, that did not go well at all,” Nikos commented, flipping the page. 

Immediately Brynjolf’s arm shifted down so he could look over at the other thief, eyes wide. “You heard?”

“The walls aren’t that thick,” he replied with a shrug. 

“I’m not--”

Nikos held up a hand to stop him and finally looked up from the book. “Whatever happens tomorrow happens. I won’t hold it against you if Vex doesn’t change her mind about me. This is a three man job, we can’t afford to send her back.”

“No offense but it’s not just your ass I’m worried about if she doesn’t, lad. I can’t let her repeat what Mercer did.”

“I hate to burst your bubble but that’s not something you can control. Vex is a grown woman and she makes her own choices.”

“But--”

“And has to deal with the consequences of her choices. Same as you, me, and even Frey. If she’s going to defy you, she’s going to defy you and nothing you do can change that. Not really.”

“Aren’t you the least bit concerned about getting betrayed?” Brynjolf asked.

“Oh trust me, the prospect is terrifying, especially considering I got to witness what they did to the last guy the guards caught trespassing in the palace, but honestly… the risk of being caught is there, regardless of if I had a dagger to my back or not, and I knew the risk would be significantly higher when The Gray Fox decided to send me instead of Tethas.”

“Tethas?”

“Our second in command. A hot-headed Bosmer that used to be a bandit in High Rock. He’s a pretty decent thief, but only when he works alone. Working in teams never goes down the way it should with him.”

“Then how did he end up with a higher rank?”

“I let him have it since it wasn’t really any different from the position I have, and he did actually earn it.” Nikos folded the page’s corner and set the book down, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “But that’s all beside the point. How I feel about Vex’s whole…” he waved his hand in the air before bringing it back down, “thing she’s got going on. Her feelings about me being here and on this job matters very little in the grand scheme of it all. I was sent to help your branch and I intend to do so. Though, since I know that she was planning on screwing me over, I can be a little more prepared in case she does anyway.”

“No. If I think she’s still going to then I’m sending her back. I can’t let her stain the Guild or herself like that,” Brynjolf protested.

Nikos huffed a soft chuckle through his nose, “You Nords are rather odd when it comes to honor. You aren’t responsible for her actions and you can’t save her from doing something regrettable.” He stood up and stretched before turning back to Brynjolf. “You can’t send her back. We need her skills and if I end up getting arrested? Eh, I’ll figure something out.”

Brynjolf chewed on his lip, shaking his head through half of what Nikos told him, placing his head in his hand and rubbing. “Do you think The Gray Fox has to deal with this kind of crap from your branch?”

“I’ve no doubts. Compared to Cyrodiil, your branch is far superior in your connections. Whatever Mercer did may have put you guys into a rough patch, but I can already tell not one of you would turn your backs on each other. Vex’s problem is she’s afraid of someone new coming in and possibly changing that.”

Brynjolf looked at him curiously, “Where’d you get that idea?”

“Because look what happened last time someone new came in.”

The Nord had to admit Nikos was right. The last person that entered their guild shook everything to its core. Exposed Mercer’s betrayal, dragged Brynjolf into being a Nightingale, restored order and then ran off and left the guild to someone who had no idea how to run it all. His head slumped back against the couch and he growled. 

Nikos stepped to the corner of the sofa and glanced down at him. “One way or another the job will get done. You can deal with Vex however you need to afterward. Don’t stress yourself out over it tonight or we’ll really botch it.”

“Like hell I can relax now.”

“I can help with that.”

* * *

  
  
  


It had been so long since Brynjolf had been in Solitude he had all but forgotten they had the bathhouse in the Winking Skeever. He slid down further into the steaming water with a low moan. 

Nikos, who sat opposite him, laughed as he scrubbed his arm. “I take it that this helps?” 

“Yesss…” Brynjolf replied as he continued sinking down until the tips of his hair were submerged, before he straightened back up, wiping his face. “A bit anyway.”

Nikos raised a brow. “There isn’t much else I can do to help you relax beyond this.”

“There is one thing, lad. You could...give me a massage?” Brynjolf requested flirtatiously. 

He shook his head and moved to get out of the water, grabbing a towel from the side and covering himself before Brynjolf could get a good look. 

“You’re not in the right mindset for that right now, Brynjolf. Just soak.”

Brynjolf pretended to pout until Nikos had left to dry off and dress before he dropped the expression and sighed. He lied. The bath wasn’t helping, not even a little. If anything it just added to his nausea, but he’d stay. At least for a bit longer. He may as well be clean before going into a shit-show tomorrow.


End file.
